Sunday, December 30, 2018



A nor’easter brewed outside. The rickety pier groaned under assault from waves
slamming ashore as wind battered loose shutters, and rain pelted a tin roof. Rat-a-tat tat. Rat-a-tat tat. Jordy, rotund with a ruddy face, leaned forward admonishing his newest employee. “Stay from up around that lighthouse, lassie. A traveler went missing recently.”

Zel and his friend sat at a table listening attentively to a rumor they’d heard Jordy tattle before.

“Never been so afraid in my life.” Waitress’s eyes widened. “Did they find him?”

Her. Not hide nor hair.”

Gripping her tray, liquid sloshed as glasses rattled together. “What happened?”

“No one knows.” Barkeep shook his head. “That poor family. So many trials and tribulations in their lives. Especially the daughter, Rappy. She lived with her mom. Heard she possessed outrageously long, golden hair.” Jordy’s voice lowered. “Relegated to a wheelchair, she never came out.”

Lived? You never saw her?”

“No. No one visited the point.” Jordy heaved a sigh. “Met the mother once. When she came to town. A bit of a raver. Said someone scaled their home, duped Rappy into cutting her golden tresses, and then shimmied down the side disappearing into the night. That’s when she locked the girl inside.”

“You’re kidding?”

“Mother hasn’t been seen in a while. Some say she passed and it’s her ghost which runs madly around the tower screeching. Folks who’ve heard say it sounds like a weird variation of her daughter’s name.”

“Maybe mom’s alive and her girl died. It wasn’t a ghost I saw.”

“Perhaps.” Jordy swiped the countertop. “They got new people working the light.” Jordy rearranged some bottles on a shelf. “Couple of young men, I hear. Hope they know what they’re in for living up there. Gets real nasty during a storm like the one brewing outside right now.”

She attempted getting her boss back on topic. “No one ever encountered a child; does this Rappy even exist?”

“Only a mother’s tale.”

“Sad.” The waitress walked off to deliver drinks.

Handsome blond sitting with Zel huffed. “Unbelievable!” He peered unhappily at Zel. “The tales folks spin.”

“Right?” Zel attempted to lighten the mood. “Jordy’s barely owned this place for a couple months and he knows more than the locals.” Grinning, he added conspiratorially, “Hair growing outrageously is not only a bit much, it sounds supernatural.” Zel, fluttering fingers in the air, whispered, “Woo ooh, woo ooh.”

“Stop, it’s not in the least funny.” The blond sipped beer. “Next thing you know he’ll have dragons circling the ramparts.”

“Every time he tells the story, I actually love the part about long, flowing hair.” Zel’s voice softened. “It reminds me of someone I once knew.”

“Not the bit where a child has been consigned to a wheelchair or a stranger completely vanished. That’s not funny.” He stared into his ale. “A mother locking a child up, it’s, well, they don’t know how horrible that could be.”

Zel grew serious. “I worried about you when you didn’t return after our last semester. I figured things worsened for you.”

“I’m glad I told you about the Alzheimer’s. Finally got medication under control but not before there were whispers and rumors all around town.” He peered at Zel. “That tower is a damn curse.”

“I think the lighthouse is beautiful.” Comment met with stony silence. Zel hunched shoulders. “Wish your cousin didn’t have to leave suddenly.”

“Poof, she vanished.”

Wishing his friend would smile, Zel added, “She was a tremendous help.” Fishing out money to cover their meal and a generous tip for their server, Zel commented, “Waitress does look as if she had the fright of her life last night.”

“Jordy’s tale doesn’t help.” Running a hand through flaxen curls, Zel heard the man whisper, “Don’t forget to set the alarm tonight.”

The men stood, nodded toward Jordy, and left.

On their way home, Zel mumbled, “I’ll walk with your mom later.”

“Watch her closely. She almost caught that girl. Lord knows what she would have done.”

“You need to tell Jordy who you are, Rap. If he knew your mom was stricken with a condition that attacks many, perhaps he’d end spooking folks with his story.”

“How many people do you think leave here believing that tale, Zel? Do they relay it to others?”

“Probably all of them. And I’m sure each embellishes it in their own way. Not much happens around here to get people excited.” They reached the road leading to the point. “I’m sorry she locked you in, babe.”

“I’m glad you came to my rescue when I didn’t return.” Rap stopped, he pulled Zel into his arms and kissed him long and hard. Wind picked up. Frothy waves smashed against rocks flanking the lighthouse. “My cousin will be back next month. It will give us time together.

“Will you think about growing your hair back out for me?”

“I shouldn’t have cut it, it just became too much.” Rap exhaled. “Mom’s forgotten who I am again. I thought she detested me being gay and loving a man yet, strangely, she remembers us and strings our names together whenever she escapes and babbles to townspeople.” He planted another light kiss on Zel’s cheek. “Know what? Jordy can weave his story.” He gazed lovingly at Zel. “If I grow my hair out again, will you use it to climb the ramparts?” Eyes grew as stormy as the sea, “Or will you scale battlements to save me?”

Slits appeared in glowing eyes as waves pounded their feet. Zel whispered, “I am the dragon who will slay for you. Again, and again.” He hugged Rap. “We’re the stuff folktales are made of —

Rap and Zel.”

Or is it?

Does the dragon exists? If so, the ending of the story could be very, very different.

Growl and roar-it's okay to let the beast out. - J. Hali Steele

Wednesday, December 26, 2018

Played For Pay

An older man, a young escort--can they find love against all odds? Coming January -


“I’m paid to be an escort. Nothing more. Anything extra is my choice and if it does happen—they will pay for it.”

Banyon Jameson loves his lifestyle. He likes money, makes lots of it as an escort, and he enjoys time with a variety of men in beautiful places. Ban, twenty-six, prides himself on being manipulative with an ability to talk his way out of most situations, especially those involving sex.

“I’m willing to pay my escort for ‘extra’ services, but it’d be a big mistake to fall for this pretty bastard wearing red silk panties.”

Stanton Kavanaugh, late forties, extremely wealthy, and told he’s handsome. Those very close know he’s gay, Stanton just doesn’t advertise it to the world. None have knowledge of his predilection for young, beautiful men. Single, eligible, he pays for companionship to ease loneliness engulfing his life and it works until Banyon Jameson answers his phone call to Brief Knights.

A young escort, an older man, and a pair of red silk underwear!

MM Romance

       “He is hot,” Hunter uttered as Ban checked out Stanton Kavanaugh. “If you decide no, please tell him you have the ideal match.”
“I’m it, trust me. “Ban sipped brandy slowly taking in the client. His styled, almost black hair with gray touching the temples was longer and slightly curling at the neck. Hard to tell, but he hoped for blue eyes which would grow appreciatively darker when…
He faced Hunt. “Hmm?” A big man but not out of shape large. Maybe a tad taller and heavier than Hunter. “Wish he’d stand and stretch or something.”
“Go meet him already. He’ll rise when you shake hands. I’d like to get going.”
“Let me watch a bit longer, see if he has any idiosyncrasies.”
“I’m fine standing here drooling.”
Soft lighting above the booth’s table showed Stanton Kavanaugh’s suit jacket fit flawlessly. A few shades lighter than navy complimented a sun-kissed tan. Long legs stretched out and a single strap monk shoe peeked from beneath the table. Hard to tell color. God, let them be brown. Blue would be too matchy-matchy, black spelled overdressed when paired with royal blues unless the occasion was formal.
One finger repeatedly tapped a glass in front of him. A nervous tic.
Making his way back to the man’s face, Ban sighed and didn’t care it audibly slipped out. “That face plastered across town on every billboard and gay men, all men, will flock to them as if he’s the messiah.”
“You’re nuts. Get your skinny behind over there. I don’t have all night waiting for you to be comfortable.”
“I’m good, you can scoot.”
Hunt eyed Ban. “You sure?”
“If he kills me, I won’t care if he lets me kiss those breathtaking lips first.”
“Ban, ring me in the morning?”
Something they always did for each other. “Promise.” Escorts led a perilous existence as you never knew what psycho might get his hands on a credit card and order up a hunk to slaughter. Ban liked his body parts where they were. “I’ll be home to pack in the morning. See you then.”
“Take care, man.”
Two rows of tables separated the bar from window booths. Banyon threaded through and stopped a foot from the table. “Stanton Kavanaugh?”
“You and your friend decided I look sane and harmless?”
“I’m Banyon.” No last names. If a client got hooked on an escort, it’d be difficult to locate them without it, though, not impossible. He tilted his head. “Sane? Probably. Harmless? I seriously doubt it.”
“I see.” Finger still tapped. “Have a seat.”
He didn’t get up. Darn!
Goddamn beautiful! Stanton had observed both young men wondering which would walk his way. He’d prayed for the shorter brunette who was slender, not muscular as his friend was, and pretty didn’t quite do justice as a description. His outfit screamed fashionable. Midnight blue trousers, a white V-neck covered by a sedate gray jacket with sleeves effectively pushed up showing just a bit of shirt cuff. Navy wingtip with what looked like gray suede. Damn, I hoped for more flamboyance. Stanton didn’t fear effeminate men, felt no way less of a man because of his attraction.
Still, this fucker is sharper than hell. And I love it! Stanton took pride in his attire and appreciated men who dressed well.
Sooty lashes any woman would covet, blinked over brown eyes the color of barrel aged whiskey.
Magic will happen anywhere he puts those lips.
“I play black jack, maybe catch a show. Generally, I’m not going to do a damn thing. This trip is for me to unwind. Are you interested?”
“At your service.”
“I haggle over contracts for a living and prefer it not be such a drawn-out process in my private life.”
“I get that.”
“Might the likelihood exist for a bonus?”
“That possibility always exists, Stanton.”
The answer he expected. Realizing his fingertip rapped against a glass, Stanton curled and flattened his fist on the table. “I’d send a limo under normal circumstances but I’ll see you at LAX. Nine sharp.” He pulled out his wallet, extracted a card that contained his name and number only. Stanton pushed it across the table. “Contact me when you arrive. Doesn’t matter which gate.”
“Call me Kav.” He stood and stepped to where Banyon sat. “I won’t bet on who is harmless in this equation.” Caressing his escort’s face, running a thumb along pouty lips, Stanton said, “You’re fucking beautiful and I don’t doubt you could hurt a man badly.”
Tall, big, and that voice! Low, calm, and filled with seduction. Goodness, forget talking a nun out of panties, he might convince the devil to turn heat off in Hell. 
Banyon did not fool himself his client would be easy. This man would quietly persuade, smoothly compel whatever he deigned necessary out of any transaction. Ban hadn’t miscalculated. Stanton… Kav, was a force to be reckoned with but he got the right man for the challenge.

Growl and roar-it's okay to let the beast out. - J. Hali Steele

Wednesday, December 12, 2018

New Release Sale

Just 0.99 cents through Christmas!



A near collision sidetracks two lives.

Cristophe Kingston hasn't dated since... Okay, it's been months. Hands in his pockets, he watches an endless line of revelers enter a club he frequents. Something, an odd chill, forces Crist to hurry away and he carelessly lurches into traffic.

Already late for a deadly assignation, Lex Torcher figures what the hell--a perfect diversion. Too many years on earth has Torch craving human touch. The stranger who steps in front of his bike will surely have gentle, soft hands, hands capable of performing what others never do.

Torch's momentary distraction, his brief interlude, pits him against his boss culminating in an all-out battle for Crist as Torch's employer is none other than--the Grim Reaper, an unpredictable and greedy monster!

MM Paranormal Romance/ReligErotica

“What are you protecting me from?”
“Here, nothing.”
“I’m capable of taking care of myself.” He gazed at Torch. Lord knows it’s not what should be on his mind but the beast enticed him, raised a carnal hunger he no longer wished to deny.
“I’m not an animal, Crist. I don’t turn into one. I enjoy various supernatural powers and I’m immortal. My kind have lived among yours forever. I find the word beast off putting.”
“Then I won’t think it again.” Would be sweet to have him for one night. Hope you got that. “Why should I stay?”
“I got it.” Torch smiled. “Stay because I want you.”
“Understand something, Crist. Walk through my door and I will take everything.”

Growl and roar-it's okay to let the beast out. - J. Hali Steele

Tuesday, December 11, 2018

How much do you know...

About me?

J. Hali Steele latest interview by AllAuthor A multi-published author of romance, J. Hali Steele grew up in southeastern Pennsylvania in a little city situated equally between Philadelphia and Amish Country. Her dream was to become a veterinarian as she loves animals, cats in particular. Thanks to my mother, she developed an early love of reading. She has seven 8 ft. shelves full of books. Sharing her secret of becoming a multi-published author, she says, "Do it from the heart and not based on what is currently selling." Read full interview...

Growl and roar-it's okay to let the beast out. - J. Hali Steele

Wednesday, November 28, 2018

And you will like it!


A near collision sidetracks two lives.

Cristophe Kingston hasn't dated since... Okay, it's been months. Hands in his pockets, he watches an endless line of revelers enter a club he frequents. Something, an odd chill, forces Crist to hurry away and he carelessly lurches into traffic.

Already late for a deadly assignation, Lex Torcher figures what the hell--a perfect diversion. Too many years on earth has Torch craving human touch. The stranger who steps in front of his bike will surely have gentle, soft hands, hands capable of performing what others never do.

Torch's momentary distraction, his brief interlude, pits him against his boss culminating in an all-out battle for Crist as Torch's employer is none other than the Grim Reaper, an unpredictable and greedy monster!

MM Paranormal Romance/ReligErotica


He’d only been given two assignments all week and as the best in Reaper’s stables, it meant someone else got the call. Fuck him. Saturday evening rolled around again and Torch returned to Swanks. Unreasonable desire remained for the human but should he scent him, he vowed not to make himself known. Right!
After securing a beer from a bartender who wouldn’t remember seeing Torch since he touched his hand and gained brief control of the man’s mind, he grabbed a seat in a corner and remained hidden in dark shadows. He gave a cursory glance to three men taking seats two tables away before training his eyes on the door. Torch overheard one newcomer rib another about not being able to hang on to his lover.
A very controlled response followed. “I could have if I wanted. A month of dating then four of jerking off and finger fucking with Cristophe was quite enough. He’d never be what I require for happiness.”
The name got his attention. Showing himself, Torch snatched a chair out from their table and sat down. “Fellas mind company.” Cristophe was an odd name and curiosity got the better of him. Times like this, he wished he had Reaper’s ability to delve into human minds without physical contact. “Can I buy the next round?”
“Of course.” A guy with brown hair who could have played linebacker for any pro team grinned. “How’d you get past the bouncers in that outfit.”
He wasn’t the owner of the voice Torch sought to know better. “Name’s Lex Torcher.” Should have paid more attention to his surroundings instead of watching the front entrance. Reaching to give a quick handshake, he sorted out all he needed to know. Nothing complicated or important in his mind so Torch sifted quickly through useless garbage. Narrow minded, full of discrimination. Robert flashed into Torch’s mind. Yeah, he looked like a Bob. How the hell could a gay man be rife with prejudices.
Giving this bias jackass his last kiss ever would be a pleasure but taking someone out whose number wasn’t called happened to be the biggest no-no in his line of work. Death would be welcomed compared to what would befall Torch should he instigate a step like that without Reaper’s blessing. Eyeing the man, Torch replied, “Money boasts a big voice.”
Slight, young man with close cropped blond hair joined the conversation. “Can you afford it? I mean…” Not the voice. But the type he’d have gone for any other night had he presented strength. A flunky of the others, he didn’t even rate a handshake as his words were quickly cut off.
There he is. Torch twisted in his seat to scrutinize the only man left. “Call me Torch.” Hands touched for seconds. A much more complicated mind. Cold, hard, and nasty fucker with dark, almost black, professionally styled hair and icy blue eyes. Buried deep in the stranger’s mind Torch filtered out an encounter showing him naked beneath his large friend. Interesting because he wasn’t the type to bottom. Damn. He let go too soon to catch a fleeting vision of Crist and something involving the two older men.
“Tad Whitman.” Disdain twisted his face as eyes raked Torch’s body. “We’re supposed to believe you have it like that?”
Brief contact showed both older men were sons of bitches who would eventually chew the smaller, younger guy up and spit him out without another thought. Tad and Bob wore designer suits. Old money. Not theirs. What had Crist seen in Tad? “What do you all do for a living? Wait, let me guess.” He perused the linebacker. “Bob’s legal counsel for daddy’s law firm.”
“Wait, I never told you… It’s Robert.”
Ignoring the piece of shit, Torch switched attention to the insignificant blond and grinned. “You work for Bob, or rather, his father.” Returning to observing the one who garnered interest, he remarked with nonchalance, “Your father’s north Jersey dealership sold me my car.”
“Impossible. Whitman’s NJ only sells European luxury and sports cars.”
Before Torch countered, the fragrance assaulted him. Cristophe.
Bob, in shallow glory, forgot Torch didn’t call him Robert. He chuckled and said, “Ex heading your way.”
“Hmm, my night might get better.”
They all watched as the gorgeous man sashayed across the room.
Fuck’s sake, the way Crist’s hips swayed, the grace with which he took each step. It pulled Torch further into his web.
“Bullshit if you think you can still pull him.” Bob’s laughter grated on Torch’s nerves and he noted jealousy laced the big man’s voice. “I do get it though. He is one pretty fucker.”
“I can have him.” Tad twisted and flashed a fake smile in Crist’s direction.
Torch, after a quick glance at Crist, thought of knocking Tad, an entitled piece of shit, from his seat. He made a quick decision. “You mean Crist? He’s joining me.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Seeing the look of surprise on Tad’s face made Torch’s year.

What the fuck am I doing?

Grow and roar-it's okay to let the beast out. - J. Hali Steele

Monday, November 5, 2018

A Hard Return

I've still got a couple books that I received rights back for that have yet to role out. HARD CASE returns this month!

It was one of my favorite big cat with vampyre bite books. Not sure if every author falls for one of their MCs but I fell for Case Tangara. I liked his snark and I laughed as he found himself confused and mind boggled by a snow leopard shifter with green hair! Tres Moran takes my cat on a merry chase toward love.

If you missed it the first time around don't miss it this time. I'll keep you posted with date.


Case Tangara can't believe his security expert hired Tres Moran, a snow leopard shifter, to manage his newest club and he sets out to prove she's unworthy. When he finds her, hand in her pants, in a voyeur's room... He comes undone. A white lion from the Kind species, big cats with vampyre blood, Case has honed his blood sucking ancestor's magic to a fine art. Using these skills, he samples her sexual delights.

Tres has her own plan, use the cat to forget her mysterious vampyre lover. She's drawn to both creatures for different reasons. The vampyre enjoys watching while the lion brings out a new side of her - performing for watchers.

“I don’t know who your girl is, but when she comes home, keep her under the porch. Don’t let her come back here. You probably shouldn’t come back either. It wouldn’t be good for your health.” She didn’t see the chair sticking out as she backed up. Tres tripped over the leg and went down and the wolf shifter landed heavily on top of her with a thud.
Oh hell, this is it, I’m dead.
Before Tres could budge, she felt the weight of the man pulled from her. She stood quickly and watched as Alek’s Kind friend held the beast in the air with his shoes dangling two feet off the floor. The smell of lion was so thick in the room she could taste it. His red swirling vamp’s eyes told the wolf all he should need to know. At least she hoped the dog read his eyes like she did. “Get out or die” was written all over his face. A shock wave of pleasure dived right between Tres’ thighs. What the hell?
“I don’t think the lady made herself clear. You are leaving, friend. And don’t come back. You got that?” He dropped the shifter to his feet hard.
The wolf nodded and Tres watched as he scurried to the door. If his tail was out, it would be between his legs. She turned to Alek’s friend.
“Thanks, I didn’t see the chair. Could’ve been a nasty situation. My name’s Tres, I manage The Looking Glass.”
She dusted her backside as she stared in the cat’s red eyes. Yeah, these dudes were real bastards. And in both forms they were vicious sons of bitches. Except for Alek, she steered clear of them. The one who stood in front of her should be banned from public places. Along with the smell of lion was the look of death. But he didn’t have the vile, putrid stench of a transgressor, cats addicted to human blood and emotions. The blood of their victims would be drained while transgressors remained in their vamp forms. They then became trapped in their beast gorging on blood and flesh until someone or something put them out of their misery.
Kind eyes were always variations of emerald green, and his were now back to the normal color of raw emerald, not too dark. They went well with ashy-colored hair which, punctuated by the much darker brows, looked even lighter close up. The chiseled planes of his face bordered on being gaunt, his straight nose complemented by high, hard cheekbones.
All of this came together to give him the look of one of those mysterious male models who graced the cover of romance books around the world. The ones you never really did see walking down the street. And his full lips—I got a place for them. This cat could be real trouble. He was definitely a lion, and if he lived there, he’d be king of the jungle.
She got wet and for the life of her, she couldn’t figure why. She reminded herself of all the reasons she shouldn’t be. Even now, she smelled the lion in him. As he stood this close, she saw she’d been right about the ripped body too, all sinewy muscle. Damn, his cock was hard and it bulged at the front of his pants, beckoning to her. She had to fight not to reach out and touch it. Being an animal could be a bitch at the worst of times.
“I’m Case. Glad I could help.”
“Looking for a job?” You can help me anytime with that hard-on. Shit, what was she thinking? “One of my guards left suddenly, leaving me in a spot.” She figured his answer would be no. But maybe she’d get lucky. He might have hit bad times or something. Tres doubted this as she considered the suit. If he was friends with Alek, most likely he was part of the Reign, and they took care of their own.
“Sure. I’m new in town. Alek can vouch I’m okay. We go way back.”
“Like I said, I’m in a spot right now. I’ll take your word for it.”
Tres was soaked. If her pants weren’t already wet from the vamp, they would be now. What the hell’s wrong with me? She was usually so composed. The night was young and she’d spent the better part of it drenched in her own carnal juices.
“When do I start?”
“Now. You can use my office to…uhh…whisk on proper clothes. Black shirt and slacks are all you require. No leather.”
“You wear leather.”
“I’m the boss. You’re not the cocky type are you?”
“No,” Case said. “I only wondered. I prefer slacks, no problem.”
“Good. The guard at the door can fill you in on how we operate around here. Mainly, keep your eyes and ears open for trouble. Stop it before it starts if you can and keep your hands to yourself. No use of the private rooms unless you’re on break, and you pay. Got it?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And don’t be a smart ass. You can call me Tres.”
“Okay, Tres.”
* * * * *
Oh baby. Yes, I’m cocky and hard. And I’ll be inside of you the very next chance I get.
He was right about the opportunity. It had fallen in his lap. Enforcement everywhere had become a lot harder because creatures humans believed only existed in dreams were on the rise. Shifters in every form, cats, wolves and even angels and demons all vied for a place in the world.
The humans who sat in his club didn’t know they rubbed shoulders with the boogeyman or that they were under Kind protection. In fact, their hunters probably killed more of his people than anyone else. Whether lion, tiger or panther, many cats preferred their natural state and it made them an easy target. Killing a cat was only a matter of a bullet placed in any vital organ and death followed quickly.
And Alek was right. If he’d named the club Lion’s Cave, the wolf would have never pulled any shit. He’d have known he would be on his back in no time flat with the red glare of a big vampyre cat beating down on his ass.
He watched his manager head toward the office.
She exuded sex and her desire assailed Case’s nostrils. The fangs he kept hidden threatened to show themselves. His mouth remembered how good she tasted. His hands itched to get in her pants again. He couldn’t have planned this better himself.
Case already loved his new job.
A change into the proper uniform took him no time at all. He went in search of the guard to receive instructions on how to handle his new position. The security here did need to be beefed up. The incident with the wolf might have been worse.
Unlike his other clubs, this one was located in the remote high desert. Because of the very nature of the place, it would attract Kind from the compound in the area and a variety of normal shifters. Normal shifters. An oxymoron if ever there was one. Case understood clientele here would be a harder bunch to handle. The animal side of them made their primitive needs stronger.
Vamps were such deviant creatures, they pretty much saw to their own entertainment. They would consider The Looking Glass tame. But some would wander in after dark. That wasn’t a problem. They’d lived among humans for a long time now and blending in was second nature.
Protection of his business was paramount. For this reason, he had corporate stress Kind be hired. They could handle the shifters because they were animals too. The undead posed no threat to creatures just like them.
He believed his initial concern of a shifter managing his club was valid. No one would patronize a place they didn’t feel safe in. He didn’t think his new manager had a handle on all of this. He made a mental note to discuss it again with Alek.

Growl and roar-it's okay to let the beast out. - J. Hali Steele

Friday, November 2, 2018

The Journey Begins-I'll buy YOU book 1

The Journeyer - Book 1 - Amazon.   
Jamie MacDonald, a young Scot, begins his dangerous and uncertain journey to the New World…
Jamie MacDonald, a young Scot mourning the deaths of his father and brothers in the ill-fated battle of Culloden, decides to take his mother to the New World. But tragedy and unforeseen circumstance dog Jamie’s journey and he is pressed into service aboard a pirate ship commanded by a ruthless Spaniard.
Antonio Rodriguez is a man with a dark past, but also with an allure Jamie cannot resist.
The two men embark on a stormy relationship—but can their feelings for each other survive the danger that surrounds them, threatening not only their love, but their very lives?

Let me start by saying I loved this book!!

For whatever reason I didn't realize it was book one. Certainly my fault because Mr. Bowie made it plain in everything I've since read that there was another installment.

And DAMN IT - I'm dying here to read it. I love a good Historical.

I've pre-ordered and cannot wait for The New World, Journeyer Book 2. Amazon pre-order.

The connection between Jamie and Antonio happened over time and I felt each tether as it wriggled around their hearts.

Well written, it drew me in in the first few pages and held me until the last page! I'm afraid to say more without giving anything away.

Jamie MacDonald. - I fell in love. Antonio Rodriquez - Sigh and Sigh and Sigh!

Read this book!!!

Whatever comes next--I can't wait!

I'm so enthralled, I'll buy a copy of book 1 for a lucky commenter who leaves their Kindle addy. Ends midnight 11/2/18.

Growl and roar-it's okay to let the beast out. - J. Hali Steele

Wednesday, October 31, 2018

Some of my best friends...

Are furry! Because I don't talk about them enough, I thought it was time. After losing Lord Greystoke, I realized I need to show my family off a little more.

WOLFDANCER has the prettiest green eyes and when he first opened them, he saw me. This little man is lucky. Found him 17 years ago baying at the moon, eyes not open, no fur, bug infested, and he fit in the palm of my hand. Vet said he wouldn't make it through the night. Welll, the cat with the prettiest green eyes in the world got another lease on life and has had a wonderful 17 years in my car. Wolf is so loving and he really believes he's a person who is just very hairy.

My JEWELEYE. I call her Jewely. Turned up pregnant on my porch in October 2007. She was approximately 6 months old according to the vet and she had a hideous black casing over her left eye which, after surgery, proved to be caused by a BB shot in her eye. If ever I found the son of a bitch who did that - I'd shoot them in the eye. Feel like that's only fair, To keep it comparable, I'd use a 22 caliber pistol. A second surgery was performed to remove eye ball as it kept getting infected and she's been mine ever since. She's loving but she can be a snot when she wants to. Pics don't show it but her fur is tortoise--beautiful black, red, tan mottling.
The new big guy in the house, NIGHTSHADE. Badass. Full of piss and vinegar. He chases a big white shepherd every time the owner lets him out. His tail grows 10 times bigger, he spits, and literally, goes after the damn dog! I've seen him launch from the neighbors picnic bench toward this dog and I hold my breath--for the dog's safety!! He can be loving, and he can be a real animal. This cat's soul imagines it is in a panther's body!

Last, but by far not the least, SQUIRREL. She's as much of a spitfire as her mother was and she was one of the feistiest cats I'd ever come across in my life! Her mom got hit by a car shortly after having her and tiny and full of might, she found her way to my back door weeks later, starving, puny as hell and pregnant. She lost her two kits right after birth as she was only about 5-6 months old and had no idea what to do. Yeah, I took her in and I've never regretted a single moment of it. She is full of love, always perky and happy.

Growl and roar-it's okay to let the beast out. - J. Hali Steele

Sunday, October 28, 2018

Fan Girl Moment

I adore, positively adore, Mariska Hargitay, @mariska, both as an actress and a person.

She always seems so together. Her portrayal of Olivia Benson on Law and Order: SVU, is spot on
week after week after week get where I'm going.

She's had ups, downs, and comes out on the right side every time. Each of those times, I watch her grow, change to be what her role calls for. Detective, lieutenant, or WOMAN.

Yeah, the right side of law, including when she beat the hell out of her rapist, Billy, in, I think season 15. Did I want her to kill him? Yes. But I'm glad she didn't. She's better than that. Sure wish Fin, Belzer, or one of the others would have accidentally shot his ass or something. I feel her acting in this episode was phenomenal! Of course, I saw the rerun a few weeks or so back. I still moved to the edge of my seat while watching. The show's star gets that reaction from me because she played the hell out of that week's part--and most other episodes I've been fortunate to view.

Actor, Peter Hermann, (a hottie in his own right @peterhermann) nabbed a jewel when he caught her because this woman, in my eyes, is a gem! See wife/husband together in a Youtube clip from L and O SVU:  regarding her adoption of baby Noah. Never saw her and Stabler as more than partners but, damn, these two, as police officer and lawyer--they could have worked as occupations were just far enough apart to understand and sympathize with each other during trying times.

HINT, HINT, NBC. Olivia is overdue a lasting and loving relationship.

I watch this when original episodes air on NBC and I've probably watched every episode 3-4 times on Ion TV or USA Network. I don't have a photographic memory so each time I see her in episodes it reminds me why I continue to follow Law and Order: Special Victims Unit.

This all leads up to saying Mariska Hargitay is up for 44th People's Choice Award for Drama TV Star - not female in a drama but DRAMA TV STAR! Damn if it shouldn't be hers when I look at others in the category. Not saying they are not good at their craft, but in my humble (or not so humble) opinion, she is great. My fingers are crossed. It's the only award show I still watch.

2018 E! People's Choice Awards will air November 11, 2018, 9pm, on E! Network. Link below leads to page showing other nominees for awards.

Who do you hope wins an award in their category?
Hmm, is there a prize for someone responding?

FYI: I think Ice T @finallevel is underrated!

Growl and roar - it's okay to let the beast out. - J. Hali Steele

Thursday, October 18, 2018

The Devil's Wife...

Is meddlesome at the worst of times and they often remain at odds. One thing brings them together - their triplets - Sly, Slick, and Wicked. To see what Josette gets up to, read the series!

Sly - Hellacious book 1
Slick - Hellacious book 2
Firstborn - Hellacious book 3

They're all together in a box set at Changeling Press (THE BEST DEAL) also at: Amazon   B&N   Kobo   ITunes


Born of Hell, will he destroy the pure heart he desires?

Sly Sathariel possesses his father’s genes, and on Earth he creates all sorts of havoc for humans, though he never takes a life. His father, Satan, reserves that power, yet not even he could keep Sly from the arms of the pure and spiritual woman representing the Tree of Life. She entangles him in her roots, pulling Sly in a direction his hellacious soul dare not follow. 

Waverly Malkuth has a premonition no human should be privy to -- she witnessed her own death. It’s tearing her apart, filling her with anger and thoughts of vengeance that go against the grain of everything she knows. Giving in to the malevolence growing in her heart carries her into the arms of a man who can only hurry her journey down the deadly path she follows.

Momma had a sense of humor. Said she named us after three of Daddy’s better traits -- Sly, Slick, and Wicked. She called us hellacious sons of bitches and Sathariel was the demonic surname she tagged us with in his honor. We were the sons of Lucifer himself, and since mother had been human, we were permitted above, as were other unimportant demons who wreaked havoc on Earth and its inhabitants. It was in our blood to take absolute advantage of every glorious moment, even though a blast furnace of heat followed us everywhere. Still, nothing rivaled the fires of Hell. And unbeknownst to humans, cold was just as bad because Hell froze over each time some asshole muttered the fateful words, “’till Hell freezes over.” Never lasted long but it would be so fucking cold a demon’s nuts could crack. 
Guess God had a sense of humor too.


Slick Sathariel is Satan’s third born, the youngest triplet. He keeps the peace and makes everyone happy but himself. Not anymore. Slick can’t tell the woman he desires his family may be responsible for her lover’s disappearance, or that he’s the devil’s son. But when he sets out to capture her for himself, his family’s prying just might cause Slick to lose the one thing on Earth he truly wants.

Marcia Carter spent an hour in a handsome stranger’s arms and she’s regretted it every day since. She had been in the process of extricating herself from an unhappy affair when jealousy made her ex attempt rekindling their long-dead relationship. Now she’s available, and the blue-eyed devil is pursuing her, but Marci is not about to share her millions, or her body, with another poor bastard. Yet getting him out of her mind won’t be easy. Maybe one more time, one night…

“Jealousy is an ugly monster, my sons.”
Slick jerked around, surprised as hell his mother had crept up on them.
“I do not creep, Slick.”
“Oil and water didn’t mix again, huh?” Wick peered at their mother, Josette. “How do you deal with loving the devil?” Satan was not an easy man to live with. Hearing a burst of laughter, Wick twisted back to the women. “Looky, looky, Slick.”
Slick watched the new arrival take off her sweatshirt, then carefully fold and lay it beside the pile of clothing and wraps already strewn about. He’d joined his brother at the park because Wick wanted to keep his eye on the nurse he’d had the run-in with at the club, but Slick never expected her to show up.
“I can’t watch this,” he groaned.
The woman from the club, the one whose legs he had spent a glorious hour between in an SUV, the one he desperately wanted… Yet he’d given her boyfriend the key to her heart… and her pussy. Damn it. Last thing he needed was to watch her bend, stretch, and sweat. Her scent already reached his nostrils. Any more and his dick could double as a flagpole. “What. An. Ass.”
His brother laughed. “And it’s free now.”
“What! When?”
“Easy, man. I was going to tell you.” Slick wondered, only briefly, why his older brother glanced at their mother. “You wished he was gone, right?” Wick shrugged. “Maybe he’s dead. Do you really give a shit?”
Slick glared at his older brother. “Yeah, like when Hell froze over you would tell me. Bastard, what did you do?” The sand shifted beneath his feet, grew icy-cold, causing him to levitate a few inches. “Fuck me.” Uttering the words “Hell froze over” would keep his father’s walls glacier-thick with ice for a few hours.
Genuine laughter bubbled from his mother’s lips, evidence she liked what her baby boy had done. “I’m borrowing your brother, and please, don’t irritate your father, Slick. I left him rather happy.”


Wicked Sathariel, the eldest son of Satan, has finally met his match, and at the oddest of times, she turns up in his head. Accustomed to having his father and siblings rummage through his mind, he can’t handle his woman seeing his hellacious thoughts. And when it becomes clear she’s heaven bound -- all hell breaks loose!

Lori Thornton’s psychic ability is new, and never one to control her temper or her mouth, she often finds herself in bizarre predicaments. One such event is meeting Satan’s firstborn and calling him a pretty boy. When his eyes fill with hellfire and he releases horns, talons, and the long, leathery, forked tail that swings treacherously toward her, Lori knows her life is about to spin deliciously out of control.

“For crying out loud. You did it. Why, why did you let her see into my mind?” Sometimes tenderness and love dripped from the fingertips of his father, especially when he dealt with his sons. This was one of those times. He touched Wick’s cheek with his hand and love poured into him, but the most horrific thing he could imagine quickly followed. The vision overwhelmed Wicked, took him to his knees. “Hell, no… no!” His pain expanded, entered every part of his body, and instantly his brothers were at his side.
Sly spoke first. “Easy, man, easy, we’re here.”
Slick helped him to his feet. “I’m sorry, Wick, so sorry.”
They had witnessed the vision also. He stood and glared at his father. “It won’t happen. I won’t let it.”
Satan opened the gates of Hell and walked inside the door. Pivoting, he gazed at Wicked with red tears staining his cheeks. “It will happen.”
“Fuck you.”
“Wicked!” Josette stood behind him and put her arms around his waist. “He’s your father.”
Glaring at the doors as they slowly shut, he cried, “He’s the goddamn devil, nothing more.”
Walls trembled throughout the bowels of Hell, the gates flew back open, and Satan in all his hellacious glory tramped back into the room. Horns glistened, talons appeared longer than usual, and the long, leathery tail whipped high and low scoring the walls with gouges. “You didn’t think being mine meant sweetness and light, did you, Wicked?” Satan snatched Wicked from Josette’s grip and the talons tore into his flesh. “Did you?”
Wick lost all control. His horns sprouted, followed quickly by talons as pointy and deadly as Lucifer’s. A thick, spiked tail waved around the room, sending his brothers and Josette scurrying into the far corner. Fire flicked from his mouth when he spoke. “Release me. I’ll show you evil.”
Satan laughed, an eerie sound, which gave Wicked pause after he was dropped and his hooves hit the floor. “I made the right choice when I chose you.”
“I could have told you that, Pops.” Sarcasm laced every word.
“What do you think you’re going to do?”
“I’m not going to let you hurt her.”
His father chuckled. “I’m not going to hurt her.”
Wick breathed a sigh of relief.
“Don’t you ever come against me again. And in my house?” Satan opened his mouth and a blast furnace of flames licked at Wicked, causing him to back up. “You are much stronger than your brothers, but I can still burn your ass behind the gates of Hell forever.” He wrapped his tail around Wicked and flung him to the floor. “Do. You. Understand?”
Wicked refused to give an inch until his brothers drew near and he feared for their safety. “Stop, I’m okay.”
Stepping back through the heavy, impenetrable doors, his father smiled. “Wicked, you are firstborn, you are mine, and you will kill her, not I.” Sadness rested in his eyes as he glared at him. “This is what it’s like to reign in Hell, my son. Get used to it.” He looked up. “She belongs to Heaven.”

Growl and roar-it's okay to let the beast out. - J. Hali Steele